


The Snow Queen: A Frozen Tale

by mhs0501



Category: Frozen (2013), Sneedronningen | The Snow Queen - Hans Christian Andersen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Snow Queen Fusion, Children of Characters, F/M, Post-Frozen (2013), Separations, Snow Queen Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5418257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhs0501/pseuds/mhs0501
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the loss of Arendelle came the loss of her family, or so Elsa believed. With her sister safe with her family, the Snow Queen resolves to take back her kingdom from her two greatest foes. But what place will a fourteen year old boy and his best friend play in her plans for vengeance? </p><p>This is a slightly darker continuation of Frozen as the tale of The Snow Queen. Comments are appreciated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: A Tale of Two Sisters

There was a certain chill to the air that night in the little village that was once nothing more than that, it’s damp cobblestone streets and dreary atmosphere prominent features that were remarked upon by the occasional visitor and even less occasional new resident. The summers were idyllic, the spring pageants and fall harvest festivals passing every year with the ever so bitter winter that always seemed to hang over not just the village, but the entire kingdom. Very few people called it Arendelle anymore. Very few knew of its original name.

 

Anna Bjorgman was up late into the dark night, the deep, overwhelming blackness kept at bay by a few candles she’d lit by the windowsill, the trails of blue frost illuminated in their warm glow. She’d stayed up far later than usual simply because she couldn’t rest easily, even though Kristoff had reminded her that she needed all the rest she could afford to get. But even with the bears of her new life she couldn’t seem to grasp it in its entirety. In all the years she’d longed to be like everybody else it surprised just how depressing being nobody at all could be.

 

Even in her years of boring growth, people acted as if she were important when she knew in her heart she was merely a spare, her sister receiving all the graceful bows and curtsies as well as numerous people fawning over her when Anna secretly craved that attention she’d lacked and attempted in the past three years to make up for. She’d arranged numerous balls, gallas, feasts, festivals, anything to bring the people of her kingdom into the ballroom and make them feel important and wanted like she knew she’d desired to be. But despite her admiration everybody still looked to Elsa when there was a serious matter at hand, overlooking the princess as nothing more than an attendant when in reality, it made her feel like even less because half the time they hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge her existence.

 

As she steadily matured into a graceful young woman Anna began to understand why. She was just the spare, and there was really no changing that. But she knew she could never be ruler even after her parents had resolved to try and control Elsa’s gift over the ice and snow that everyone had once feared, accepted, and now did fear again. It had seemed like a logical conclusion that she should have had some sort of emergency tutoring or something to prove she was fit at running an empire, but Anna found herself jaded and exhausted when it came to being in charge of anything bigger than a palace sponsored event. She easily commended Elsa when she saw her hanging over the massive stacks of paperwork and trade deals at nearly all times like she always had been, skinny trails of ice and frost looping around the elegantly carved desk should something interesting or troubling catch the snow queen’s eye.

 

But even as the princess, even as the spare, she was still important to everyone. Even if they didn’t show it always. She could always count of some kinds of respect to come her way and she was surprised by just how empty being none of those things felt. They were once hated titles, but Anna knew that she was still technically a ruler of the area. She just couldn’t reveal it.

 

The candle she held went out, and Anna stood up from her seating on the window box, waddling over towards the little kitchen that was across the room, the creaking of the wooden floorboards hopefully not alerting Kristoff that she was up and about. In the darkness, she fumbled in one of the counters drawers until she found the familiar shape of the wick cutter that they had brought upon their move, the trust fund Elsa had set aside for her and her husband finding quick use upon the realization that they needed a new place to call home. Finding what she was looking for, she slowly eased the drawer shut and waddled back to the light windowbox, the dying trial of smoke from one of her three candles visible from the distant light of the stars and moon as well as the other two healthy light sources that sat within inches of each other on the wooden surface.

 

Taking great care in her movements, Anna sat back down on the hard surface, the thin pillow she’d taken from the linen chest helping only a small bit. With a slow pace, she snipped the burned end of the candle wick by as little as she could get away with, and relighted it, making the room a bit brighter.

 

It was a constant reminder that she was away from her palace of luxuries like electric lighting. And while she did still have access to such things when she went out into the little city, it was still a bit hard to adapt to fully using candles. Anna had almost forgotten how messy they were, the usage of such primitive technology having been all but done away with when she was first growing up. The small flame was, however, better than electric lights in some ways. It wasn’t as powerful, and given how she was trying to remain discreet about being awake, suited her evening purposes quite well. On top of that there was a certain charm and warmth that came from having the miniature flame dance on its wick for hours, the glow unable to be truly replaced. There was a sense of hope that came from a candle. If it’s flame still lived, so did hope. And while Anna had given up hope sometimes, she knew on matters like this one that she would never lose hope. After all, Elsa had sworn she’d return either to or for them one day.

 

As time went on throughout the year that hope had dwindled a bit, especially when the letters gracing Arendelle’s signature seal of its blooming purple crocus had been replaced by a red wax tudor rose. It was a symbol that either Elsa was imprisoned, dead, or just had misplaced her actual stamper. And while Anna and Kristoff still hoped in the back of their minds that it was the last assumption, they knew it meant Elsa had been overthrown by the place that called the tudor rose its symbol: Weselton.

 

When she’d first received the letter from a little girl who’d claimed she was from the palace with a message, she’d split the seal with great anticipation. Elsa hadn’t sent anything telling her of the war in months, and letters between the two had become significantly less common and in some cases painfully brief. In her previous writings, Anna had noticed Elsa’s penmanship had seemed to lack its usual grace, as if the queen were more exhausted than ever. She’d initially attempted to keep her spirits over the war optimistic, but along with the steady decrease of words came a steepening decrease in gusto and spirit, leaving Anna to pick up the pieces and cheer her up; albeit from a few miles and days away.

 

But instead of her usual greeting came the first troublesome sign. Elsa’s parchment was iced with frost, her penmanship seeming to leave a feeling of desperation in those words she had penned. It took a moment of speculation before Anna and Kristoff actually read the letter, detailing about how Weselton and the Southern Isles were closing in, and that this would be Elsa’s final letter for the moment. She wrote them to withdraw the remainder of their trust fund, and that she would attempt a visit in another month.

 

The rest of the letter was written in scribes penmanship that Anna knew wasn’t her sisters, and ended with the words ‘All hail King Hans Westergaard of the Southern Isles and his glorious reign!’. That was enough to make Anna physically sick as Kristoff tore the letter from her hands and tossed it into the hearth, ignoring her protests and saying that he couldn’t bear to look at that damned parchment again.

 

It took the princess hours to stop weeping, and her husband could hardly keep a calm face knowing the Arendelle sisters two greatest enemies were now coming around with armed assassins to find them and end the possibility of the integrated princess ever bearing a child or resurfacing. With that in mind, he packed their things on Sven, and took them both as far away from their previous home as they could manage to get, hiding with his adoptive family until Anna was in her final few months, knowing that while the trolls were gifted healers and great family, they knew next to nothing about caring for children smaller than Kristoff had been when he’d first stumbled upon the Valley.

 

That child was still in her now, waiting to reveal him or herself as the next in line for Arendelle… at least, if Anna could somehow take down Weselton and the Southern Isles with only her determination and whatever weapon she could fit in her dress. That would more than likely never happen. But even lacking a title, Anna knew her child would still be a prince or princess in her and Kristoff’s eyes, even if they would wear a crown only in their imaginative youth.

 

She swung her legs over the window boxes top, her cream yellow nightgown a good distance from the candles that sat at the opposite end of the seat. Still, she took one of them and held it close to her side as she leaned against the alcove, running her small fingers across her swollen stomach. A tune was hummed as she soothed her growing prince or princess, imagining just what she would be doing if only her sister could be here for her on this special moment. Elsa would’ve loved to know her little niece or nephew. Anna resolved she wouldn’t let her child accept the rumors that plagued her sister now.

 

A frozen heart as cold as the deepest winter, they often said with passion. An ice cold soul that felt for nothing and no one. Her skin and hair were as white as the snowflakes said to be her minions, as bees were to a queen. She was cruel, vain, selfish, every horrible thing imaginable was said about her in great rumors spread by none other than the duke and prince’s men that had only seemed to have taken effect within the past few months. Everyone now seemed to have a negative connotation of the former queen, seeing her not as a royal monarch that cared for her people, but as a charlatan whose only true passion was her ice and snow. They didn’t even call her by her given name. The ruler of ice and snow was no longer Elsa. It was the Snow Queen, and only the Snow Queen. She was a demon. She was a monster. But Anna knew she wasn’t.

 

She took a deep breath, her eyes focused on her massive belly. The former princess smiled down at her child sweetly, and began her story in the softest voice still audible. Hundreds of little snowflakes began to swirl outside in a blizzard.

 

“Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Arendelle, there lived two sisters by the name of Elsa, and Anna.”

 

## ❄❄❄

         

The Snow Queen watched from her elegant throne, the powdery white snowflakes acting as a looking glass with which she could view anything in the entire northern hemisphere. She could keep up on news of her rightful kingdom, know exactly what was going on in the halls she once wandered through daily. However, she could only take so much pain before she called her little bees back to her. It was a dagger through her chilled heart to watch these barbarians ransack her palace of nearly anything of value and take advantage of everything her castle had to offer. Those grimy soldiers were tracking muddy boots on her floor, sleeping in her beds, bathing in her bathrooms, all the while she was powerless to do anything to stop the invading forces from taking her home and turning it upside down.

 

All the while she watched Hans through the windows of her throne room, the young prince taking her place as the ruler of what was once a proud kingdom, having been driven into the mud by the massive war Weselton began. He sat in the most undignified way possible, one leg folded over the other with a devious smile that illustrated his deepest desires to control another fair kingdom simply because he was never going to do so in his own place of origin. She fought the urge to send a spike directly into his heart when he appeared one day with her father’s crown perched upon his auburn locks. That was inexcusable.

 

And people called her the monster as he tossed the family portraits into the main hearth, her parents, her ancestors, herself and her family, all burning to ashes like memories that were long forgotten. He drank expensive wines whilst calling upon a young woman named Ava to be his queen while Elsa could only watch, her teeth gritted in frustration as the once flawless columns of the palace began to crack from her anger.

 

This was why, in an essence, she’d resumed her snowflakes on her sister from where she was right this very moment, perched on a window box in her city home, rubbing her pregnant stomach and telling her little prince or princess a tall tale like Elsa would do with her on the snowy nights in the palace. It meant the world that she was safe. That all three of them were from harm's way. She chuckled lightly as Anna seemed to try to visualize the story with crazy hand gestures, and Elsa soon realized what Anna was trying to tell. She was telling them their story. Of how she’d gone off in a blizzard with the help of a grumpy mountain man to bring back summer and save Elsa from her isolation. It was a gripping and charming tale that Elsa knew all too well.

 

It was a pity the good times had not lasted.

 

Flashes of memory were called to her attention as they invaded her subconscious, taking form in her ice and snow as the blizzard suddenly ceased. The Snow Queen felt a lump in her throat as she attempted to dull the memories, but her powers refused to listen, Elsa’s fear quickly shaping as it always had to control her.

 

_Flash._

 

A bride in white and red, a massive bouquet of white snowdrops and red roses clasped in both hands as she threw her arms around the neck of her blonde husband, his attire a black suit with a burgundy patterned scarf tied to his waist as he embraced her smaller body and kissed her as long and passionate as he so pleased. Her tiara glinted in the sunlight that shone through the ice glass windows, the summer wedding being a dream come true.

 

_Flash._

 

The light shone through her study window, the very same man stuttering and stumbling over his words much to her own amusement as he attempted to ask permission to marry her sister. Elsa had made him squirm that visit, but gave her blessings nonetheless with an empty threat that should he ever hurt Anna he’d make a lovely statue for the courtyard.

 

_Flash._

 

Her sister sat beside her in bed, tucking a beautifully embroidered cloak around her shoulders as she sneezed, the piles of gifts sitting unused beside her bed reminding her that sisterhood was the best gift she could give Anna on her birthday, even if she’d almost killed herself before realizing it. The smell of broth hung in the air.

 

_Flash._

 

The glow of translucent blue filled the queen's vision, the crystals of her ice rising in a sheer fabric that freed her from the confines of her responsibilities and fears of hurting anyone. Her platinum blonde braid was hanging loosely over her right shoulder as she strolled out the open doors to the balcony of her ice palace, vowing to start a new life of liberation. The light of the rising sun greeted her with this promise, the sting of the cold not bothering her in the least.    

 

 

_Flash._

 

The masts of the Southern Isles and flag of Weseltons navy entered the pristine waters of the fjord as the sky seemed to go dark at their presence, the warning bells of an imminent attack on her kingdom ringing in her ears as she stood on the balcony overlooking the entire scene, her face unreadable as she gave the orders of close the gates. Her family stood behind her, Anna and Kristoff holding tight to one another as even Olaf remained silent in anticipation for the queen's next words.

 

_Flash._

 

The scent of smoke permeated the warm summer night as she fled her burning country, down the road to where Anna and Kristoff had been sheltered in their village. Only there was no village. It was nothing but ruins of black ash and and the distant glow of cinders, the sky above a near shade of red from the heat and destruction that Weselton armies had caused. The remains of the crested weaponry abandoned tipped her off. She had no idea if her family was still alive or not. Tears stung at her vision as she crumbled to the dirt ground in defeat, weeping in sorrow of what she knew to be dead.

 

_Flash._

 

Her reflection was inlaid in the blue ice, the dead of night reminding her she was alone, even if her sister was within her metaphorical reach. Her new outfit was nothing like what she’d initially made in her first attempt. In the time that followed her adventure she’d managed to create more of a masterpiece with her ice than Elsa originally thought possible. It was a snow white gown, form fitting and soft, the ends of her sleeves and collar sharpened a bit, but no more deadly than a material such as silk or cotton. Most telling, she brought her hair up into a bun once more, simply finding it more elegant than the messy french braid. She was still herself. But she was no longer Queen Elsa of Arendelle.

 

She was the Snow Queen.

 

And the Snow Queen was going to have vengeance. But only when her niece or nephew came into the world would her real plan begin.

 

“I’ll stop them Anna.” She reassured her visions as the clusters of snowflakes showed her she sister, who was now sleeping peacefully in the sill of the window box. “I will keep my promise. I will see you soon, and your child;” She smiled at her sister with the most innocent of smiles. “Your child will be ruler of Arendelle.”


	2. Chapter 1: A Plan Is Set

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry to those that wanted me to continue this story. It's been a while. Enjoy!

“You can’t be serious.” Anna looked at him with hurt eyes, a blush rising in her cheeks as she struggled not to look back in the window where her husband now rested, Gerda spoonfeeding him a rich broth.

 

“I am quite serious, dear. You’ve been behind on your payments for the past month.”

 

“That is no reason to take Sven!” She fumed at the pompously dressed Weselton aristocrat that owned the little apartment they’d rented since she was heavily pregnant with their first child, and had remained since the second, and soon to be third.

 

He had on spectacles rimmed with treasury gold, a gold medallion pinned upon his ample chest for his military services. He had a gold filling in his tooth that glinted when he showed unhappiness. Everything about him screamed pathetically vain and wealthy. He contrasted heavily with the dreary atmosphere that surrounded him, white and brown slush caking the roads and sidewalks that Kristoff had failed to shovel for the first time in fourteen years.

 

“Nonsense. The reindeer will make a fine animal back on the fields come next summer.” He brushed off her argument as easily as if she were nothing more than the snow that fell in soft, delicate flakes on his epaulets; which were also gold.

 

“But Sven is old! He still pulls sleighs but aside from that he can’t do anything!”

 

“If he doesn’t work, he’ll make a delicious stew for me and my company.” The man shrugged.

 

Anna fought the urge to pummel the look of complete indifference to the reindeers fate from the man's face. Her teeth gritted as her hands clenched into fists. She held her breath as if the atmosphere no longer supplied a source of air. She struggled to hold back tears as she’d done often since she’d been forced to hang a hideous Weselton flag outside her home. It was treason. If Elsa had seen her willingly do it…

 

“Look, we have other things of value. Can’t you take anything else?” She felt her anger collapsing like a flimsy bridge. “The jewels. We have jewels.” She covered quickly as she recalled the nondescript box she kept that contained the only gemstones she could save in her sisters haste to get her away from the palace.

 

“Gems are worth nothing to me, dear. I have enough riches to last me many lifetimes.”

 

 _I’ll bet you do you bastard._ Anna practically growled as her fists coiled once more.

 

“What do you want instead? Name your price.” She pleaded with desperation clinging to her voice like the ice crystals that clung to her magenta cloak.

 

The wealthy man took a painful moment of silence as he seemed to survey the property, looking for anything valuable at eyesight when Anna knew he wasn’t even going to consider. But his eyebrows raised when they reached the stables, the movement of brown fur catching his attention. Clouds of steam came from the divot in the small stable where Sven was kept.

 

“What is that in there?” He asked with intrigue, stepping around Anna to get a closer look at the stables.

 

Anna turned around and silently cursed at the movement. Why couldn’t she just keep still when there was a financial giant who could just waltz on by and take her whensoever he pleased?

 

“Astrid. Sven’s calf.” She replied breathlessly, not liking the direction this conversation was taking at all.

 

“I see.” The man raised an eyebrow at Anna as if she was lying to him. In truth she had. But it was for their families own safety.

 

Knowing that they had two reindeer in their barn would only make the Bjorgmans easy targets for the rich and powerful Weseltonian aristocracy that regularly strolled past and started bidding wars over the stupidest of private property. The worst part was that more often than not, the owner of the object being bidded on had next to no say in the matter, and could only take the measly sum the greedy men and women offered for their priceless heirlooms and treasures. They had the power of speech, but the commoners were often left silent whenever a soldier walked by, making sure the order was kept. It wasn’t as if it mattered anyway. The Weseltonian aristocrats owned practically everything and could easily take anything they wanted from the former Arendellians as if they were no more than newborn babies.

 

“You can’t take her.” Anna quickly said in a vain attempt to keep the idea from taking root in the man's head.  

 

“I can’t? I seem to recall you saying to name my price. She will be a fine pack animal.”

 

“I said no.” She tried to keep the anger from her tone. “You may think you have the run of the law here but the fact is I don’t see any soldiers here. You’re not about to bully me into selling away my family's livelihood in exchange for a month's rent. You’ve driven countless others into the mud with your dealings but I won’t stand for it here. You’ll get your payment, but not through Astrid.”

 

A deathly cold silence passed through the windy front steps of the house, the aristocratic man seeming to flush red with anger at being talked back to. This anger seemed to cool a bit, but his tone was more bitter than the coffee he bartered in far off lands.

 

“Then the other one will do, I suppose.” He seethed at the former princess.

 

“His name is Sven.” She growled. “And you won’t be taking him either.”

 

“Then I’m afraid there’s nothing left to take but the house, dear.” The man’s tone was a faux form of disappointment that made her want to claw his eyes out with her husband's oldest - and rustiest - ice pick.

 

“Can’t you wait at least one more day? What is so important about us paying you? You own practically every house on this block!”

 

“What’s important is you owe me for the building. I didn’t get rich by giving people stays of payment. You will pay me what you owe me, one way or another.” The man stated bluntly.

 

Anna felt ready to strangle him, her resolve and strength draining at the realization that she wouldn’t be winning this battle. “If you take Sven,” She felt her voice starting to crack. “Treat him well.” She said this knowing that the wellbeing of a farm animal was the least of his concern. A low burning fire resided in her eyes.

 

“If he behaves any better than you, I’ll see to it he gets fed. Now go ge-” Her fist connected with his soon to be bulbous nose. The pompous man tilted back, and fell into the snow, the wide powder gaining a crimson splatter from his bleeding nose. Anna quickly slammed the door, a scowl etched on her practically gaunt face.

 

“What was that about?” Gerda looked up from where she sat on her knees, a bowl of broth moving from her lap to a table as the bowl was now empty.

 

“Our landlord.” Anna groaned as her back pressed against the door, her arms crossed over her slowly expanding stomach.

 

“I’m assuming he deserved it?” The smallest of smiles appeared on her young features.

 

“Exactly what he deserved.” Her scowl could curdle dairy. It faded a bit as her gaze settled on her husband. “How’s he doing?” She pushed herself off the door and latched it before walking over to the pallet she’d laid out in front of the fire.

 

“He’s capable of swallowing, at least.” Gerda’s amused look hardened as she leaned lightly against the table, looking down at the broad shouldered man who was until the accident, capable of lifting entire trees from the ground. “But he’ll be better by next week if he stays down.”

 

Anna found it hard not to look at the massive wound on his leg, the infection still waging war with Kristoff, his skin flushed white as a sack of flour and damp with beads of sweat. He’d been incapacitated for nearly a week, and therefore unable to keep harvesting ice and keep money flowing in. And worse still she didn’t know how or what she was going to tell him when he eventually woke up and asked to see Sven.

 

It had been a routine journey to one of the hundreds of lakes that dotted Arendelle’s fjords and forests. White snow piled up to knee height. Blizzards rages unchecked through the towns and mountains. It was a perfect day to bring in perfect ice. Somehow, though, fate had other plans. Kristoff, ever the cautious one, used every method he did whenever he was preparing to harvest. He looked for color, he looked for texture, he looked for bubbles and tested his auger. But somehow he made it to the very center of the lake before the ice broke, and cut his leg open with the saw he’d used to break through the transparent surface. It was a miracle Sven managed to get him out and back to the town, or he wouldn’t have survived. By the time he was home it was too late to consider the trolls, and so Kristoff was healed using the ordinary and useful methods by Gerda’s grandmother, the town apothecary, but ordered to be put on bedrest for the next few weeks. This meant no ice, which meant no payment, and that led to a now surely furious aristocrat that would make their life a living hell for the next few years until they managed to move away from the ruined country of Arendelle.

 

“Thank you, Gerda. I really appreciate this, more than you know.” Anna smiled the most she could muster at her neighbor.

 

“It’s no trouble Mrs. Bjorgman. I’m happy to help whenever you need me, really. Grandmother’s getting older and she needs somebody to take on her trade.” Gerda shrugged weakly, taking the bowl from its place on the table and going to the kitchen to refill it. Anna knelt down and kissed the fever struck blonde on his forehead before following her doctor to the bare kitchenette on the first floor.

 

“I really can’t accept your help without payment.” Anna admitted as the fourteen year old refilled the bowl from a pot on the stove.

 

“Please, you have enough financial troubles as it is. Call it a favor.” Gerda replied going back to where Kristoff lay asleep, setting the steaming bowl on the table.

 

“Just because Lord Weaseltown won’t take food doesn’t mean you won’t.” Anna took a loaf of bread and some vegetables (taking mind to leave the carrots) from the cupboard and arranging them in a basket before presenting them to the young girl.

 

Seeing that the former princess wouldn’t let her leave without the basket, Gerda accepted it, telling Anna to give her best to Kai.

 

“Speaking of which, you don’t know where he is, do you?” She said as the pair treked up the stairs to the gable the two families shared. Anna shook her head.

 

“He’s been out since dawn. He’s determined to make ends meet.”

 

With this she cast an absent minded look out the window to the mountains, still not exactly sure where her eldest child was, the only indication that he was coming back a scribbled note on the dining room table and the smaller sled was missing from the small stables to the side. But despite being worried she trusted her son. He almost never caused trouble.

 

“Before I forget, could you give him this?” Gerda fished a piece of parchment from her dress pocket and handed it to Anna, who folded it again, refusing to see what was on it.

 

“I promise he’ll get it.” Anna nodded as the fourteen year old ducked out the window and began the short walk across the gable to her apartment.

 

## ❄❄❄

 

The young blonde released muffled grunts as he tugged the sled back towards the small city, the distant lights of candles dotting the tall wood and brick apartments. His hands felt chafed beneath the thick pair of dark grey gloves he’d borrowed from his father, the pain reminding him he needed to rest. But Kai knew better. Years of helping his father taught him being still was the absolute worst possible choice when in a blizzard of this magnitude. It was a light one, but that was no excuse. The teenager knew Gerda and his family needed firewood.

 

It was pure bad judgement that he hadn’t taken Astrid, but his mother had warned him to keep her out of sight for the day and most likely the foreseeable future. While she did bear a striking resemblance to Sven, the soldiers and aristocrats who strolled by would notice how spritely ‘Sven’ looked and either call their bluff or take her away. He desperately wished he’d gone against her wishes. Pulling a heavy sled through a blizzard was hardly any safer.

 

He paused as the trees began to thin, a distant light seeming to call him forward. Kai looked skittishly at the route ahead that was quickly disappearing, the howling wind and layers of snow quickly erasing the weathered foot and boot prints on the main road to town. He shook his head at the town, figuring it better to try and looked for someplace warm; if only for ten or fifteen minutes. People around this area were kind enough when his father needed a breather in their dens or barns.

 

As he trudged in the direction of the closer light it only seemed to be more confounding. It wasn’t like candles to stay on without flickering unless they were well sheltered. That was when it hit him: this wasn’t the home of just some family. It was the home of an aristocrat.

 

He looked back at the woods as his steps faltered, the heavy sled bucking to a stop as is slid around on the icy path. Precious moments passed as he contemplated his options.

 

“Stay away from the homes with oil lamps, Kai.” His mother had often warned him. When he’d asked why, his mother seemed to deflate a bit, her sternness dulling as if the blade were chipped from the question. “Because they can’t be trusted.”

 

“Be that as it may,” He said under breath clouded breath as snowflakes began to coat his slowly dampening fur gatki. “Home is too far off.” With that, he continued forward, replacing his better judgement with survival instincts. The latter usually won.

 

By now his imprints were disappearing almost the instant he lifted his boots away. The wind seemed to be whispering, pushing him towards the large and expensive mansion that seemed to radiate warmth. But as he came closer, a sharp gust of ice and snow shoved him to the side, landing him flat on the cold ground. Powdery snow stuck to his outfit, quickly melting and making Kai shiver as he pulled himself up, looking ahead for any source of light as the world in front of him seemed to became nothing but white. With all the diminishing strength he had left, the fourteen year old pushed forward, a small wooden structure quickly entering his line of sight. With a sharp tug, the sled pulled with him, sliding across the ground as he hopped on, ignoring the jabbing pain the logs and twigs were giving him upon entry to the sled. It got nearly ten feet before he was forced to repeat the motion. This time, the smaller wooden vehicle tapped up against the wooden siding, the elegant Scandinavian woodwork ingrained with the tiniest of crystals, causing them to shimmer in the light of the building.

 

His gloved hand felt around the wood, searching for unevenness that would hint at a door or window. Finding it after a moment, the cold sting of a padlock made him jerk his soaked hand away. Taking the small hatchet he’d made use of earlier, he swung at the iron padlock, a few sparks flying off from the reaction. After three more hearty swings, the iced lock cracked, falling into the snow and was quickly buried as Kai yanked the door open.

 

The scent of hay and fur invaded his nose. “A barn?” He guessed, looking around in the dark as he slammed the door shut, leaving his sled out for the moment.

 

Feeling around his gatki pocket, he silently prayed his father had left the flints. With a triumphant smile he looked around the area, counting six skittish horses and three reindeer as well as a lamp that still had oil in it. In mere seconds, the barn was filled with a glowing orange light as the teen stumbled towards one of the gates and peeling off his damp gatki, boots and gloves, setting them on the rail to dry. Looking around the barn, the horses now seemed adjusted to his presence, and a few even moved towards their gates as if they expected him to feed them. He shook his head.

 

“Sorry. It wouldn’t be fair since you probably eat better than I do.” He chuckled flatly.

 

The horses were beautifully patterned, adorned with expensive saddles and groomed to the point where they looked less like animals and more like the gaudy ceramic horses that dotted Gerda and her grandmother's apartment. The teenager walked right past them, his eyes settling on the much more rugged reindeer. Their fur was a mixture between mud and chocolate brown, their fur not given much attention as if the aristocrats didn’t see the point in improving their appearance. Kai smiled fondly at the memories of his little sister Kristian when they both used to spend hours in the little barn connected to their apartment, Kristoff having taught them how to properly care for reindeer and groom them. Of course, Kristian hadn’t been interested so much in the caring part as much as she was content stroking old Sven and doing so for hours. He imagined her sitting in the hay pile next to the both of them, playing something on her fiddle or wrapping them in a blanket to keep them warm.

 

That vision completely vanished as he got closer to the reindeer. One of them looked familiar, the harness and bells unmistakable. Kai took another step towards the largest and what looked to be the eldest of the reindeer, his brown eyes tired and limp as if he no longer possessed a will of his own. His mighty antlers almost brushed the ceiling of the stables, his twenty five tines sharp and slightly yellowed with time.

 

“Sven?” Kai looked at the reindeer, who seemed to snap up at the recognition of his voice. “What are you doing here?” He questioned, and the creature let out a grunt that Kai knew only his father or possibly his little sister would be able to translate. At the moment though, he didn’t care.

 

“Don’t worry.” He walked up to the creature, placing a hand on his snout as Sven came closer, nuzzling his bare chest with his cold, wet nose. Kai looked into the brave steeds eyes. “I’ll get you home. You’re a Bjorgman, and we don’t give up on family.”

 

He longed to comfort the reindeer forever, but let go after a good minutes. With an urgent sprint, he shrugged on his slightly dried clothes and peeked out one of the glass windows, frost clearing as he got closer. There were no footprints visible in the snow, and it was obvious nobody would be leaving the mansion at a time like this, much less to check on the stables. With tentative steps, he unlocked the enclosure, hoping subconsciously that old Sven could make it home when he knew he was hearty, relentless. This was the very same reindeer that had saved a mythical kingdom called Arendelle at one point.

 

At the moment, young Kai hardly cared to think of the reasons his family's reindeer was in an aristocrats stables. He just knew he needed to get him back before Kristian or his father realized he was missing. With some effort, he reattached the broken padlock, the ice holding it together from the irreparable damage he’d caused to it. Sven followed his footsteps quickly, Kai knowing better than to ride Sven despite having a decent assumption that he could handle the sled full of wood and the entire family while still going cross an icy fjord. He just didn’t want to put the old man through anything more than he had to, and that meant sucking it up and pulling the sled himself.

 

Getting home after that proved to be no challenge, the candles still burning high and mighty when he left Sven in the barn and pried open the door to find his mother, her strawberry blonde locks spilling around her, curled up against his feverish father's chest. Kai stood there, looking at them both for nearly a full minute, contemplating whether or not to wake his mother and get her to bed, knowing she and his brother or sister needed to be cared for and sleeping on the floor was most likely not doing them any favours. He took another step forward before deciding to leave them be. It had been a long time since he’d seen his father and mother together in that manner, like they had before the accident. He smiled solemnly at his parents before kicking off his boots and walking up to the second floor where the main parts of the house were. Hanging his gatki up on one of the wall pegs, he saw the deep brown of his little sister's eyes boring into him with anger from where she stood, hands on her hips.

 

“Kai,” She said breathlessly, the anger quickly fading from her eyes as she dashed forth and hugged him, burying her face in his shoulder.

 

“It’s okay, Kristian. I’m fine, really.”

 

She let go of him after hearing his, a trail of tears on her eyelids. “Sorry.” She blushed. “It’s just… you never came home and Mama was getting worried. She just laid down next to Papa and then Sven was missing and I was just so afraid that something had happened and-” She cut herself off as if she were imagining the worst. Kai hugged her once more, wiping away a tear that fell down her freckled cheek.

 

“I’m fine. Sven’s fine. I found him and got him back, alright? He’s a little cold but he’ll be waiting for you in the morning.” Kai paused as Kristian sniffed at the news, a tiny smile blossoming on her face. “What time is it anyway?”

 

“Almost one.” She answered. “And you know what that means?”

 

Kai thought for a moment, the realization dawning on his face as his mouth popped open. He looked around the room, and saw four gifts wrapped up nicely on the window box, frost clustering on the window as the blizzard raged outside. The gifts themselves were small, but that hardly mattered. He could only stare at his little sister, who chuckled lightly as his expression.

 

“Happy Birthday, brother.”    

 

## ❄❄❄

 

In his loft room, a cold breeze blew through the air, saturating the maturing young lad as a sharp pain drove into his heart like a needle's prick, multiplying as the pain repeated itself a total of four times. Kai’s blue eyes shot open at the feeling, a pounding rush reaching his head as dizziness overcame him. He clutched at the comforter and sheets, his other hand gripping his chest in a desperate attempt to snuff out the stabbing pain. It was like shards of glass.

 

But as his vision waned, he saw them reflected in the light of the moon that shined through his gable. Little black pieces of an unknown origin, floating like ash and embers above his head. With no way to stop them, Kai watched helplessly as the particles floated down from their flight, entering his eyes. Another feeling overcame him, but the teenager couldn’t describe it. The needles poked at his eyes, a damp feeling coming to his attention. It hurt so much the boy couldn’t even tell if it was blood or tears. He immediately brought a hand to his face and rubbed his eyelids in a fruitless attempt to get rid of them.

 

It happened quickly, a sound of breaking glass, smashing crystal. There was something that was breaking and Kai didn’t know what it was. Had he looked in the mirror, he wouldn’t seen the source. His blue eyes dulled to a dark color for a split second, the victim of the sound his own sight. His eyes, his vision, were shattered like a broken mirror.

 

But the pain subsided, and Kai left it alone, drifting off into sleep as a woman in white watched through her snowflakes. A near devious smile curved on her icy features, her cold, pale skin seeming to warm. It had been a weapon, something to be feared.

 

But now it was exactly what the Snow Queen, what Elsa, needed. Calling her snowflakes back with a wave of her left hand, the vision of her nephew disappeared. With a wave of her right, snow began to swirl and cling in three small shapes. The effigy was lumpy, lopsided, and had fresh twigs branching out at arms. Coal black eyes looked at its creator, a final flash of aurora blue light bringing the snowman to life. The Snow Queen smiled at her eldest and dearest creation.

It blinked, its eyes adjusting to the light. It hadn’t seen a summer since the night of Elsa’s vow. It looked at its mother with a gaze of amused curiosity, recognition coming over the little snowman faster than Elsa assumed possible.

 

“Elsa?” He looked at her with confusion and surprise contorting his brow. “You look… different.”

 

“Thank you, Olaf.” Elsa smiled, taking the little snowmans words as a compliment, knowing no matter how dark she became, Olaf would forever embody her cheerfulness, her innocence, the very thing she promised to abandon to save her kingdom.

 

“Where’s Anna and Sven?” The little creation began to look around the vast, elaborately decorated, and empty palace. Elsa’s smile melted away as her eyes grew cold.

 

“Gone.” She frowned, and Olaf looked at her with even more confusion, the Snow Queen reminding herself Olaf didn’t understand such morose topics. “But you’ll see them again.”

 

The snowman seemed to perk up at her words. “Good!” He giggled. His face suddenly seemed unsure. “When?”

 

“That is exactly what I require of you.” Elsa walked up to her first creation, seeing her own reflection it its black, joyful eyes.

 

She got down on one knee so her was level with Olaf, and the snowman took a tentative step back, as if wishing to not intrude her personal space as she’d taught him years and years ago. She chuckled lightly and beckoned for him to come closer, and he obeyed.

 

Rolling her hands over one another, a cluster of snowflakes began to swirl in her pale hand with an enchanting blue glow that had once fascinated the children of Arendelle and her own sister, Anna. In mere seconds a beautiful snowflake, the size of snowball, was levitating in her hand. It was often said that two snowflakes were never the same, and Elsa heard this more than anyone. But in her recent years, she discovered that limitation was fruitless when applied to her and her magic. She could easily create copies of any snowflake she so desired to.

 

Olaf stared in wonder and fascination at the crystallized beauty that was once so common. He would know more than anyone what that snowflake was. “Is that-”

 

“Yes, it is.” Elsa grinned again, presenting the snowflake to Olaf. “It will allow me to transport you exactly where you need to go.” With that, she pressed the delicate creation into the snowman like a wedge, the object disappearing into his snow-filled chest.

 

“And where do you want me to go?” Olaf asked as the Snow Queen stood up and walked over to the solid and only bare wall in the entire palace.

 

She smiled with devious anticipation. “You will soon find out.” With that, she waved her hand, and the life force of the snowman recalled itself into her memory, safe and sound for when she needed him again.

 

And his lifeless body stood on the mirror of reason, staring back at her with soulless, black coal eyes, waiting for his next opportunity. Elsa looked forlornly at Olaf’s snow shell, wishing she didn’t need to call him away when he’d just made rebuilt. But he would be fine with her keeping watch. After all,

  
She was an expert at building snowmen.


	3. Chapter 2: A Life Of Shattered Sight

The darkness of the room greeted the young adolescents eyes as they opened, the first rays of precious dawn peeking through the window in his loft. The gray clouds of the evening blizzard had passed along in the night, leaving the sky above a clear shade of forget-me-not blue. The distant trails of smoke and steam were barely visible from his neighbor's chimney through the frost, and with a sigh, Kai rolled out of his bed. The silence of his room was pleasant, almost comforting. He stood in his pajamas, the fur lined breeches on his father’s ice harvesting uniform offering much coveted warmth. He looked around the room, fined tuning his hearing. The distant sound of creaking floorboards and quieted footsteps suggested either his mother or sister was up and about.

 

The loft was a cozy little room, built into one of the two roof gables of the tall apartment, the fourth and highest level all his, for the most part. The connected gable that sat directly across was close enough to reach in less than ten small steps, his family’s own apartment a near splitting image of Gerda’s and her grandmothers. He could still vaguely recall the many happy memories spent hopping across the only three inch gap, his mother always near should he or Gerda get themselves hurt while playing up there. Though despite this watchful eye, they had almost always been alone up there. Alone their imagination ran wild. Alone, they were able to forget their poverty and their families strife and struggles. Up there, they were still children and could always remain so, even in the throws of maturity and weights of responsibility. In the evening light of their candle filled windowsills, he saw no callouses on his hands from years of work; only the pale, pudgy ones that had helped Gerda cross the gap like a knight offering his hand to a delicate lady.

 

The floorboards creaked as he shuffled across the floor, picking up a folded piece of parchment that someone had slipped beneath the gap under his door. His finger brushed the delicate crease of the fold as he unfolded it. Lovely scripture in silvery black ink greeting his line of sight. He recognized the handwriting almost immediately.

 

_Kai,_

 

_Happy Birthday! I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you yesterday, but I hope I can make up that and my gift to you today. Meet me outside tomorrow morning, 7:00, out on the east end of the gable._

 

_See you there, Gerda_

 

Something flashed through him, something he couldn’t quite place. A throb of blood pounded in his ears as he blinked at the letter. The cursive black scripture seemed wrong, incomplete. It wasn’t beautiful; far from it. It was like that of a Weselton aristocrat, like the pompous horses placed next to Sven. It wasn’t dignified. It was hideous, flashy, everything he hated. The echo of crumbling parchment rung in his ears as his fingers crunched and molded the letter like a swath of plains cresting and falling in mountains and valleys. In moments, the paper was unreadable, and his anger disappeared with the beautiful penmanship. His hand shook, as if hesitating its next action. The crumpled parchment fell to the floor and bounced once before rolling down the slight slope of the hardwood and ending up against the bedpost. It seemed to glisten in the light of the rising dawn, but Kai hardly cared. It was ugly, vain. It didn’t deserve his attention.

 

Her penmanship may have bothered him, but there was really no reason it should have. He’d seen his friend write more times than himself. Her scripture was perfected, as her grandmother had taught her so. Taking over the apothecary required being able to fill out contracts and agreements as well as charts for who in the hamlet needed what. He’d even complimented it multiple times. Why was it only now that he saw the true ugliness it held?

 

His head shook slightly, choosing to dismiss the question. It wasn’t important right now. Not when it was very likely past 7:00 o’clock and he was keeping his friend waiting. Penmanship be damned, she was desiring to have his company and to give him his present.

 

The evening before offered many wonderful surprises for the fifteen year old. On top of coming home late after reclaiming the family reindeer from the barn of some aristocrat, gathering firewood, and getting his younger sister to bed after she’d stayed up half the night in dread, he’d completely forgotten that his birthday was that day. He’d turned fifteen, officially out of his first phase of awkwardness and on into the second. He was halfway down the road of puberty until he turned eighteen, and would officially be an adult. While it was somewhat important, as the eldest child he always had had some sort of pressure on him to be responsible, to care for the young and the weak, to be the example. He felt with what he’d been pushing to achieve, he was more than ready to take on the world at fifteen, much less eighteen.

 

His guild was impartial at the moment, shifting between ice harvesting and keeping food on the table. With his father's injury only a week earlier, the weight of providing for his family was suddenly cast upon his shoulders, and Kai had attempted to handle it the best he could. He took less for himself that could go to his parents, stayed out in the woods chopping wood and harvesting ice to sell. Although he managed to keep the Bjorgman house alive for the time, he knew that without Gerda to help his pregnant mother and care for his father's injuries, they most certainly wouldn’t have lasted even two days.   

 

The night before with his return was spent stroking his sister’s hair as they sat on the large rug before the splendor of the fire, unwrapping the small cash of presents from Gerda’s grandmother, his parents, Kristian, and a few small friends he’d managed to make in his years of helping his father.

 

“So which one are you going to open first?” She’d said in a hushed voice, her tired eyes clouded with exhaustion as her thirteen year old body clock was quickly catching up to her.

 

Kai mused for a moment, looking over the hastily wrapped objects with careful speculation. His sister soon grew impatient over waiting and finally he chose a box wrapped in red, gauzy wrapping paper most likely purchased from somewhere in town. He longed to tear into it as he had done as a young boy, but instead began to carefully twitch the folded from each other until the white box itself was free of its decorated package.

 

The top lifted off easily, and Kai looked at the object in confusion. “What is it?”

 

Kristian yawned, her fingers brushing the object lazily. “It’s a new gatki. Father’s was a bit too big for you.”

 

The teen lifted the fur lined gatki, almost the exact same as his father save for being a bit smaller, and ran his hand across the soft fabric, remembering how much he did when Kristoff had come home late some nights. He had for the time being, been using his fathers, but Kristian was quite right to point out that it was, in fact, three sizes too big for him. His father had assured him he’d grow into it one day.

 

“It’s from dad?” He asked. The movement of her head indicated a nod. Kai carefully set it back in the box before realizing something else was in there. “Kristian,” He began as his hand wrapped around a length of crocus purple fabric. “what’s this?”

 

“Dunno.” She shrugged weakly. “Something from dad, obviously.” With no further questions, he put the sash back in its place and placed another one before him and his sister.

 

“That one’s from Gerda’s grandma.” She supplied as her eyes drifted to the patterned and bowed fabric that was both loud and elaborate for being such a small thing. His calloused fingers undid the bow and removed a rosemaling painted tin. Beneath its lid resided some of her famous krumkake that Kai knew everyone save for his father favoured over everything else, Anna most of all. He happily obliged in splitting a bit of it with his little sister for the occasion, and they both continued to unwarp the three-something parcels left. They included a small hatchet, a set of fitting mittens, and bag of swirled marbles from his sister.

 

“I made them a while back.” She answered as he eyed the bag's contents. “I know you don’t really play with them anymore, but-”

 

“You made these?” He removed one that was an icy blue color as he rolled the smooth glass ball in his fingers.

 

“Yeah,” She nodded slightly. “The glass maker was offering lessons and Mr. Vere asked if I was interested.”

 

“This was your first try?” He asked with a bit of a prideful chuckle. Kristian nodded sheepishly, nuzzling into him a bit as her lower half shivered from the cold air in the room. “Kristian, these are perfect. Thank you,” He pecked her on the forehead. “I love them.”

 

He looked at the empty pile of gift wrap and boxes hastily placed in a pile, and raised an eyebrow as he counted off who he got presents from. There was his parents, Gerda’s grandmother, as well as Fredrik and Markus. There was a lack of one person's contribution and the connection he had to her made him a bit suspicious.

 

“Did Gerda not send anything?” He propped himself up on one elbow. His sister shook her head lazily before slipping a hand into a pocket of her dress as removing a folded letter.

 

“She said to wait until morning. Some kinda surprise.” She yawned once more.

 

Kai carefully eased the parchment from her fingertips and scanned the parchment as if trying to see inside it without opening. It proved fruitless, and Kai instead placed it back into his sister's weak hand as it moved back to the pocket, and soft snores began to sound. He smiled at her fondly before scooping her up and carrying her to her room to lay down for the night. She had to have remembered only a while back what it was.   

 

His new gatki hanging on a peg by his door, the soft fuzz tickled lightly at his skin as he belted it up with the purple length of sash as his father always had. Apparently his mother liked the resemblance the two men held. His thick boots clapped against the floor as he reached the window that led to the snowed over gable.

 

There was no wind to nip at his skin today, the blizzard that had given him hell the evening before having finally ended and allowed him to take full advantage of the freshly fallen snow, should he want to. Had the situation downstairs not have been so dire, Kai would’ve considered asking if his mother or sister wanted to build a snowman. They always loved making them, and it had become a bit of a tradition within the Bjorgman home since they’d first moved in. They always seemed to put a smile on Anna’s face for some reason.

 

The hazards of being rather tall and nimbly stepping onto the gable was a trial for him indeed. It required the teen to bend over upon leaving the warmth of his room. The sharp point of thin icicles poked into his back as the delicate objects shattered with an almost painful sound. He couldn’t look back to see them, something stopped him from doing so. Ice was one of the most precious things in the world to both Kai and his father, and it left a slight sting in his chest to even think of looking back at them.

 

He continued along the gable until the eaves of the roof no longer covered him from the light of the almost white sun, some stray snowflakes catching in his thick, straw blonde hair. Soft powder crunched lightly beneath the heels of his shoes as he turned left towards the longer end of the roof, the view of the rest of the city actually somewhat breathtaking. Columns of steam and smoke rose from the chimneys and candles sat in the windows. The pale, worn  stucco and the sweeping gables of the grey shingled roofs gave a certain amount of depth Kai would’ve once only expected from a painting.

 

Gerda was on her knees when Kai saw her, humming a soft tune as her eyes looked down at what she was working on. Her burgundy rosemaling dress spilling around her. Her wavy amber brunette locks were free of the pigtails she usually wore, obviously taking advantage of the fact that there was no wind to mess with it. The humming stopped when she heard her friend approaching and she turned her head to face her friend, and she seemed surprised.

 

“Kai!” She started. “I thought I said seven; you don’t want to ruin the surprise!” She quickly tried to cover the remainder of her work with a flimsy tarp.

 

“Gerda, it _is_ seven. Didn’t you see the clock?” A smile smile twitched at his lips as he gestured towards the center of town where a large clock tower was quite visible.

 

She turned from him to check to see if what he said was true, and her face drained when she saw the delicately sculpted iron hands pointing towards seven thirty. She smacked a dirt covered palm to her forehead and groaned. “I must’ve been out here longer than I thought.” She admitted.

 

“Working on what?” Kai pressed as he raised a confident eyebrow.

 

“Well, it’s not really finished, but…” She sighed. “I guess a promise is a promise. Would you mind giving me a hand with this?” Her gloved hands clasped around a length of tarp. Kai obliged in her request before she warned him to be careful.

 

The tarp quickly crumbled to the side, the teenager stared in awe at the objects beneath it. Gerda had been up since before the sun, the light of a lantern her only source as she painstakingly planted the buds of nearly a hundred crocuses, winter roses, and snowdrops. The frost never bothered those kinds of flowers, which was exactly why she’d selected them for his present. The soft, delicate buds of the flowers seemed to open a bit as the darkness of the tarp was abandoned for the light of day. The whites of the snowdrops, the purples of the crocuses, and the laced frosted tops of the roses petals added a splash of color to the dreary cityscape in the eyes of Gerda.

 

But in the eyes of Kai, he had never seen anything so wretched in his entire existence. Only the shattered vision of the petals flashed before his eyes. They were dirty, they wouldn’t do. But the flowers didn’t seem to be the object of his rage.

 

“What’s all this?” His tone seemed snide, but Gerda didn’t take notice.

 

“I wanted to surprise you.” She folded her hands modestly. “We always grew flowers in grandma’s garden and you loved the winter roses. I figured you might want a bit of natural beauty up here.”

 

Kai snorted as he gazed coldly at the flowers. “Natural beauty.” He echoed almost mockingly. Gerda looked at him with confusion.

 

“Is there something wrong?” She questioned as her hands drifted to her hips.

 

“Well it’s hard to see the beauty in a patch of weeds.” Venom dripped from every bitter word.

 

“Weeds?” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t see any.” She admitted as her gaze darted from flower to flower, checking every fresh, frost covered bud for any sign of ruin or decay. All she saw was the pale innocence of a freshly blossomed rose, the first thornes barely peeking out from the leafy green stems.

 

“That’s because you’re not looking hard enough.” He replied.

 

“Kai, I just planted these!” She crossed her arms. “And what’s more I planted them for _you_ as a birthday present. If you don’t like them, you can just say it.”

 

“Fine,” He narrowed his eyes. “I’ll do you one better.” With that, his face grew pink with anger as he stood on the edge of the wooden box of flowers. Gerda gaped and immediately knew what he was going to do next.

 

“Kai, no-”

 

She was cut off as the fifteen year old jumped onto a patch of the innocent snow roses and crocuses, the sound of splitting vegetation and shifting earth forcing Gerda to stare as Kai continued his herbicidal actions, stomping his boots down on each and every flower and grinding the sweet sap and pollen into the cold earth. He made nearly inhuman noises with this rampage, and his friend suddenly had the indescribable urge to tear him from the destruction and slap some sense into him. But she only watched, cracked sounds of disappointment emanating from her open mouth. He continued until every inch of beauty within the borders of the planter was bleeding all over the frost covered dirt. Tear filled eyes met empty, cold ones.

 

“You wanted my opinion on your gift.” He growled as he stepped from the box, grinding the remains of the flowers from his boot and onto the tar roof.

 

Gerda gaped at him, unable to say anything as she looked between the ruined flora and the devious boy who’d caused it. Without any conscious thought, she felt rage boiling beneath the surface of her skin. She wanted to release her anger, to give Kai a taste of his ungratefulness and hatred. But something within her stopped that reaction. She didn’t see Kai there. “Kai,” She began, her voice still small and weak. She mustered the courage from deep within. “I don’t understand… this isn’t you.”

 

“It never was.” He shook his head as a devious smile crept across his lips. “What you saw before today, that wasn’t me. I’ve only now realized it, and I’ve finally come to my senses.”

 

“No, Kai, I don’t believe that.” She quickly shook her head and reached out for him.

 

“If you can’t see what I see,” He jerked away. “than you’re as blind as I once was, you stupid girl!”

 

“Call me stupid,” Her voice trembled with rage. “when _you ,_ ” She jabbed a finger to his chest that made Kai’s eyes widen only a bit. “my friend, are rude, ungrateful, cold-hearted,” She felt tears streaming down her now pink cheeks. “and everything like the Snow Queen!”  

 

He stared at her, his face going pale and blank. She had compared him to the greatest evil in all the land. Compared him to the woman whose heart was frozen and empty; compared him to the queen of the harshest winter storms, froze guards sent after her into statues for her garden and placed them on display like some hideous reminder to stay away from her lest they relish the process of death. She compared him to a witch, a monster, the ultimate insult to anyone in Weselton. He should have been angry; he should have been offended. He should have fought back even though there was nothing worse he could say. Within the shattered vision of his eyes, there was a distant flash of aurora blue. A distant flash of powder. His soul felt rough, hard; cold. It couldn’t have been a better comparison, and Kai was actually proud of it.

 

He chuckled darkly. “Why, thank you Gerda.” His teeth ground together. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

 

She quivered with a shake of her head before she dared give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Her boots clapped against the tar as her slightly dirty hands pressed to her face, running off and leaving Kai to stroll about the gable, grinding any remains of the flower box; and their friendship, into the rough surface of the roof.

 

## ❄❄❄

 

“Well,” Elsa looked into the swirl of snowflakes with a crystalline blonde eyebrow raised. “That certainly could’ve gone better.”

 

The bees of snow suddenly became whiter as the former queen called them back to her, the vision of her now saddened nephew dissipating away to the azure blue of the ice wall before her.

 

Something within the cavity of her chest felt a pinprick of pain at the realization of what she’d essentially forced her own blood to do. It made her shoulders and back tingle with a guilt that was most unpleasant, even if she’d once chided herself to grow used to it. Her eyes shut for a moment as the queen shortened the train of her snow white dress before strolling to the center of one of the many rooms within the palace that remained unfurnished despite the fact that she was constantly reminding herself to make some. Her pale, lithe hand guided the crystals of ice to their designated points and within moments a chaise lounge had appeared in the very center of the hall, allowing a feeling of completion to enter the room despite it being overwhelmingly bare.

 

With a cold huff, she lowered herself into the ice lounge and closed her eyes, concentrating on eliminating the guilt that was clawing, digging at her skin with its painfully warm claws. She figured she needed to dissect the situation, as she had whenever presented with a trade document or amendment passed by Arendelle’s council.

 

In her many years spent away from the world she’d once governed, the Snow Queen had spent a large amount of time indulging into the mechanics of the looking glass that now affected her nephew so. A memory entered from the infinite depths of her mind, but Elsa didn’t want to experience more than she had to. She gritted her teeth and concentrated harder in a desperate attempt to push the memory away. But it was a miserable attempt.

 

_Flash_

 

“Come on!” Anna had spent hours pounding on her door. “You stinker, you can’t keep my out of there forever!”

 

The queen rolled her eyes and threw a hand behind her, a thick layer of white frost covering the painted crocuses and rosemaling of the door.

 

“No fair!” The princess grumbled and the sounds of pounding continued. “You can’t just _ice_ the door!”

 

Elsa grinned slyly. “I can, and I will.” She answered.

 

“Why can’t you just let me in?” Her sister whined.

 

“Because I’m the queen.” She stated matter-of-factly, her pale fingers grazing the reflective surface of silver and nickel she’d spent hours attempting to craft.

 

Anna’s groan could easily be heard from servants that were roaming the other end of the palace. “You cannot use that excuse on me, Elsa. One way or another, I’ll get into this room!”

 

The queen rolled her eyes again as she finally stood up, acknowledging that her sister deserved a chance to see one of the many gifts she was supplying in preparation for the next heir of Arendelle. Anna never handled surprised the way Elsa wanted her to, and more often than not the thought of a secret made her go to more than ridiculous lengths to spoil it. In the back of her mind, the queens conscience told her she couldn’t have kept the princess from seeing anything even if she were frozen in a block of ice and hanging off the side of the North Mountain. It was better to let her sister in than take that chance, although there were, in all honesty, some days where Elsa would’ve really appreciated her sister getting lost for a while.

 

“Fine.” She answered after a moment. “But when I let you in you have to close your eyes.” The frost quickly receded from the door, and the jiggling of the brass lock halted as Anna instantly agreed. The queen could hear her tense breathing from the other side of the barrier. After a second of this her fingers twisted the lock, and she peeked between the crack in the door and the frame. Her sister's eyes were shut.

 

But just to make sure…

 

“Hey!” Anna suddenly reached for her eyes as a sparkling blindfold materialized and wrapped itself around her head.

 

“Sorry,” Elsa couldn’t help but giggle a bit. “I can’t take any chance of you spoiling the surprise any more than you already are.”

 

“I wasn’t looking!” She argued.

 

“Sure you weren’t.” The queen replied without a hint of belief.

 

Taking both her sisters hands in hers, the queen began leading her slowly across the dark stained hardwood and over to the small desk where she’d been slouched over not trade agreements, but Anna’s gift as a congratulations for her pregnancy. It seemed somewhat unconventional, but there was a meaning behind the queen hoped she could get across to make this mirror all the more special.

 

When they were both by the desk, Elsa swirled her hand and the cold blindfold disappeared from around her sister's eyes, and Anna instinctively blinked. She looked down at the desk and saw the polished surface of a mirror. It was a hand mirror, the handle itself carved from a wood that was light and pure as the mirror itself. The craftsmanship on it was more than acclaimed, and the princess gaped at it, knowing her sister couldn’t have simply ordered it with the time she’d spent in her room.

 

“Did you make this?” She asked breathlessly as a hand flew to her slightly growing stomach. Elsa nodded with the warmest smile she could create.

 

“I didn’t want you to see it yet. It’s not finished.” She reaffirmed her reasons for keeping the princess out of her room.

 

“What?” Anna stared into her reflection for only a second before shifting it to include both of them in its silvery gaze. “This looks perfectly fine to me.”

 

“Well sure, if we’re talking about an ordinary mirror.” Elsa gently removed it from her sister's hands and turned it over to the elegantly carved back that Kristoff had spent hours teaching her how to make.

 

“Huh?” Anna’s nose wrinkled a bit in confusion.

 

Elsa sighed softly. “When you look into this mirror, what do you see?” She turned the mirror so that it reflected her pregnant sister.

 

“I see myself.” She answered.

 

Elsa nodded. “In ancient cultures, it was believed that mirrors held the soul of the person it not only reflects, but to the person it’s given to. I want to give you this mirror not because it’s just some gift. I want you to have so you always know the beauty I see in you that I never saw in myself. It reflects all the love I have for you.”

 

Anna looked a bit peaked as concentration etched onto her brow. “That’s actually really deep.”

 

“You think so?” The queen laughed a bit.

 

“I do.” Anna nodded, a glitter of tears holding in her eyelids. “Elsa, this is the greatest gift I could ever have gotten from you.” She wrapped her sibling in a hug, ignoring the cold sting of her ice dress. “I’ll never let it out of my sight.”

 

“Once it’s finished, of course.” Elsa finished for her.

 

_Flash_

 

The loud cracking sound echoed around the palace as  she took a calming breath when the noise filled the drum of her ears. Cold tears streamed down her cheeks with the realization that the mirror never was finished, and by the time she’d gone to Anna and Kristoff, it had been too late. The cracking stopped, and the wall righted itself, the cracks frosting over and fusing back together with a comforting sound that made Elsa feel more at home than ever before.

 

With her emotions out of the way, she concentrated once more on Kai. The mirror splinters had somehow been connected to her magic in the smallest of ways. How, she didn’t know. But what she did realize was the mirror’s reverse effects. She’d intended for it to reflect the beauty, the grace, the sister she saw in Anna. All hope had been lost that one night in the burned shell of the village, and she’d vowed to never again let love blind her from getting her kingdom back. She’d held fast to that vow, knowing without the key control her powers would truly reach their full potential, and she could avenge the pain and sorrow they had all caused her. Her heart was cold and black as she’d destroyed that mirror. She just couldn’t bear to look at it any longer. As the microscopic shards scattered in the howling wind of her creation, she’d barely watched as they scattered themselves about the burned ruins of her kingdom, ensuring a painful life for anyone unfortunate enough to get it.

 

Her willowy fingers were at her hair before she realized it, and in mere seconds the bun fell into the messy French braid. She clawed at the hair as more cold tears glided down her softening features. She had been young. She had been free.

 

This was exactly what she’d wanted. It was the only way to get Kai to unlock his own potential. All she had to do now, was get someone who nephew  wouldn’t fear. Someone she could trust, and use for her intentions.

 

Olaf appeared before her rather quickly as snow lumped into the familiar shapes. The gleeful smile upon his face suggested he was more than willing to follow his creator and friend to the ends of the earth and possibly even further. The one thing he lacked now, as he had before, was a carrot nose.

 

 _I guess I can’t have everything._ She mused emptily as Olaf greeted her in her typical fashion.

 

“It’s good to see you too, Olaf.” The Snow Queen grinned a bit as she always did with her childhood before her, rising from the lounge to her feet.

 

“So, what do you need?” He stood ramrod straight in a manner that made her laugh softly, the echo ringing throughout the palace and welcome sound.

 

But it quickly faded as her eyes hardened a bit. “Do you remember that snowflake I made for you?”

 

“Of course!” The snowman remarked with glee. “I’d never forget it! I was the crest of Arend-” He was cut of by the coldest glare he’d ever seen, the sound of splintering ice rattling the hall as minute chunks of snow and ice fell the impossibly high descent to the once flawless floor. But with a breath of composure, Elsa’s eyes widened, and the palace hall glowed a bright blue as it repaired itself.

 

“I’m sorry, Olaf.” She admitted. “Please forgive me.”

 

“It’s alright.” He smiled as her and waddled to the queen before wrapping his twig branches around one of her legs in a warm hug. “You didn’t mean for anything to happen.”

 

Elsa smiled down at him. “What would I ever do without you?” She questioned rhetorically.

 

“You’d be awfully cold.” Olaf answered before letting go of her.

 

“Yes, I would.” She indulged in his answer, knowing it to be quite true. “But, back to the matter at hand. You remember the snowflake,” She tried again. Olaf nodded. “Good. And do you remember how I told you it worked?”  

 

“It lets you send me where you want me to go.” He replied on the nose.

  
“Well, now has come the time where I need you to follow my instructions.” She stated. Olaf nodded again, ready as ever. With the nod of allegiance, Elsa got down to her hands and knees, whispering in the snowman's metaphorical ear.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think of this story! I'm all ears!


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